Caleb reads the first page, then crumples it and shakes his head. "Fuck, Michael, you didn't drag me into anything. You're my friend. I went there because I wanted to help you, and I don't regret it."

It's the truth, he realizes. As awful as the comedown from the toxic whirlwind of emotions had been, he knows he'd do it again, if it meant getting Michael to safety. He covers Michael's hand while he's writing the next message, stilling the pen.

"Stop. Dude, if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be. Yeah, you're feeling a lot right now, but." But at least he's feeling something. It hasn't been cut off in that impossible, abrupt way. "But you're alive. You're alive, and you're home, and apparently that's all my ability really cares about right now, because I'm here, and I'm not overwhelmed."